A Country Divided
by Sparty the Bold
Summary: Link - former hero and a Knight of Hyrule - awakens to find himself beset with grave injuries and a strange loss of memories. He recovers, works to pick up the pieces of his scattered past, and helps restore peace to a country torn by war.
1. Chapter 1: Broken 'Midst Ruin

**A Country Divided**

A "Legend of Zelda" Gaiden by Sparty

_**Chapter 1: Broken 'Midst Ruin**_

"Where…am I?" I awoke from a dreamless and dark slumber to find myself lying on my back amidst death itself. I could sense a thick darkness all around me. Imagined? Possibly. Tangible? Definitely.

I squinted through the haze, rolled over onto my back, and blinked a few times, adjusting to the dimness of the encroaching twilight. Sitting was an effort, and when I accomplished this task an immense pain immediately beset my head. I fought the sudden urge to vomit then grasped my throbbing head with both of my dirt-encrusted, leather-gauntleted hands. This action made me realize that the sides of my face were cold and sticky; the tips of my fingers that remained uncovered recoiled at the feeling.

_Blood?_ I hadn't a clue if it were my own or belonged to someone else. It wasn't just on me...it seemed to be everywhere. The ground was riddled with patches of it along with the numerous dead bodies that accompanied them.

The smell of blood was strong. Overpowering. By the look of things this could have only happened within the last day or so. As far as I could tell—though my eyes were still having trouble adjusting—most every corpse wore the same uniform, the same armor, and had been using the same weapons. Their faces, frozen as they were in the same expression they wore at the moment of their deaths, were fair and their ears were long and pointed at the tops.

As I asked myself what could have possibly caused such a massacre, I was granted brief moments of the battle responsible that played through my mind in staccato, short flashes.

Temporarily shutting out my thoughts and fighting to steady my trembling a bit, I gathered my wits about me. There was no use pondering upon what could have been without first investigating things for myself.

With my thoughts put on hold, everything was suddenly so quiet... Where were the ones responsible for the deaths of this obviously one-sided battle? Why was I unceremoniously deposited among the dead? My thoughts were assaulting me again, questions without answers. It hurt to think. It hurt without thinking.

My left hand wandered up and over my shoulder, which led me to discover that my sword was missing from its place on my back, both the sheath and the blade that should have been resting within it. My shield, however, was lying only a few meters away. I crawled (which proved difficult with my assortment of injuries) over to where it lay face down in the mud...mud that was created by pools of blood that had mixed with loosened dirt. I reached towards it and turned it around so that its seal was facing me. I had seen the image on my shield numerous times, but I couldn't think straight enough to explain the meaning behind the symbols on it.

I thought to take a moment and look myself over, the crawling having alerted me to the lacerations and bruises I had somehow acquired. On first inspection I found that my clothing and armor was undoubtedly beyond repair. The bloodied tunic that I wore was ripped nearly to shreds, and it hung around me in tatters. In this light and in its soiled condition, I could not even tell what color it used to be. Underneath was a shirt of chain mail that was also ruined, the links in many places having come undone, outright torn in others by the assault of weaponry against it. Beneath those areas, I could feel the sting and throb of hidden cuts and bruises.

And then my head throbbed harder. I fell again into brief unconsciousness, lasting only a few moments or a few hours...whichever, it mattered not. When I opened my eyes again, it was still growing dark, without even a star yet in the sky, and the pain in my head had moderately subsided.

With my head a little clearer, I remembered to look for my missing weapon. Logically, if my shield had been nearby, my sword would be as well. I surveyed the area immediately surrounding me and found various blades and bludgeoning weapons of every kind, but my sword, a unique blade I would have recognized on sight, was nowhere to be seen. I was dismayed at the loss, and I spent the next ten minutes rummaging through the bodies of the recent battle, trying to find even a glimpse of it.

The sound of movement nearby roused my senses, dull as they were. I quickly grabbed the blade nearest to me—a flat, double-edged longsword of a spear-skewered man—and began to stand, a difficult feat in my current condition, but one I accomplished all the same. A small group of men—scavengers it seemed—came into view a short distance away. There was one taller than the rest that possessed very uncomplimentary facial features; he spotted me first.

"Well, look a' tha' one, fellas." His voice was scratchy, slurred, and accented. "'E's alive, 'e is, though tha's a nasty wound on 'is 'ead. 'Ah thought they were all 'sposed ta be dead 'ere." I turned to face him. I held my blade in a non-threatening stance, legs not spread too far apart and the tip lowered towards the ground, shield held lightly in my other hand. There was no reason to needlessly provoke this group into fighting me, especially since there were four people in all. I did my best to size them up as they approached my position, though the suddenly renewed throbbing in my head made it difficult to focus on such a task.

They made their way to me, treading carelessly over the broken and fallen bodies of the battlefield. The man I supposed was leading the small group came within two feet of me. As I expected he would do, he began to look me up and down, sizing me up. I did the same to him, though without giving away my intentions, never moving my eyes yet fully taking him in as a whole, mentally breaking down his image in my mind. He was somewhat taller than me and was in better shape than the rest of his crew. His clothing—a loose-fitting shirt and belted leathery leggings—was filthy, as it was with those accompanying him, and he carried with him a simple, short sword. Unlike the mass of bodies strewn about the field, these men possessed ears that were rounded at the top, rather than pointed.

The seconds passed, and he finally snarled in disgust and spat upon my dirt- and blood-stained boot. His actions surprised me, but if he was trying to get a rise out of me I wasn't about to fall for it. A look of disgust spread across his greasy face, and he said, "Ye ain't nothin' but a damn elf. Ye and yer' pointy-eared friends…all a' yeh. Damn ye ta' hell!" He spat again, this time in my face, which elicited small approving murmurs and chuckles from his three allies. My only reaction was to wipe off the man's spittle with my shield arm.

I felt no fear. In fact, it had been quite some time now since I had last felt such an emotion, that I may have forgotten what being afraid was like. I felt immeasurable and almost-tangible courage flowing through me, even to the point that I felt with all my heart I could honestly stand against anything. These men were nothing compared to the vile, evil demons I knew I could withstand, that I _had _withstood in the past.

"Ain't yeh got anythin' ta say fer yerself, or should 'ah start pluckin' yer ears out tah' keep as souvenirs?" He laughed after that, and his companions followed suit.

"Ye'd better listen to Brunor, ye damned elf," crooned one of his lackeys between laughs.

I waited for their laughter to abate before saying anything, so they would all hear me. "I would advise against...any attempted harm towards my person," I finally said in a hoarse voice. For a second, they all looked stunned and gave questioning looks at one another, but soon, one by one, they all burst out into even louder laughter than before.

The leader, Brunor, wiped a tear from his greasy face then stepped forward. "Yer a joker. A funny elf, yeh is." He snickered. "Well, 'Ah di'int know an elf could 'ave a sense a' humor. The way 'ah sees it...elf...," his voice lowered slightly, menacingly, "is that yer in no position ta' be makin' advisements towards me an' mah' men." He took his blade in hand and waved it annoyingly yet dangerously close to my face. "Tha's why it's funny, elf. Ye're alone out 'ere, an' there's nobody ta save ye from dyin', same as all the rest a' yer brothers an' sisters did mere hours ago."

"I'm...alone," I conceded with difficulty. "Yet," my heart began pumping at a somewhat increased rate as I prepared for the fight this Brunor seemed to be promising me, "you shouldn't be so quick...to think me so weak!" The throbbing pain in my head and other aches in my body momentarily subsided, and I saw a little more clearly the way the men before me were beginning to tense up in anticipation of spilling my blood.

"Is tha' so?" Brunor and his men were grinning wickedly. I narrowed my eyes as two of the men to the sides of the leader advanced, swords at the ready. I didn't understand why they were doing this, but I wasn't about to die like some injured maimed animal being put out of its misery.

"Get 'im!" yelled a tall one in the back. "Make 'im pay fer 'is trespasses on our people!" The two approaching me both attacked at the same time. It was as if an unseen force began to guide my actions; I singled out the man on the left and spun to the side of his sword as he jabbed it at me, knocking my shield (with my full weight behind it) into him as I went by. The other man who had attacked in conjunction with his ally completely missed his mark, and he stumbled to the ground. I could already tell that these men were under-trained ruffians, bullies at the most. I grabbed the sword-arm of the reeling man that I had shield-bashed and wrenched it hard. He dropped it from his hand with a cry of pain, and I pushed him away—a sloppy shove, due to my weakness, but effective all the same—gaining some distance between myself and the group.

"Get up, ye two!" snarled Brunor at the weaponless man and the other who had stumbled during his attack. ""E's movin' jus' like a drunk. This should be easy! All four of us at once!"

"But…but 'ah don't 'ave a sword an' mah' arm is broke!" whined the one I had disarmed, holding his pained limb tenderly. "Ah'm sittin' this one out!"

The leader thought this through for a second, then shook his head quickly and yelled to the others, "Alright, the rest a' yeh listen up. 'E's not gettin' away—not while _Ah'm _in charge of yeh!" He gave his men a quick glance, and they just looked back at him a little unsure if he was going to keep speaking or give the order. He snarled and finally said, "So..._charge_!" They were slow and unsteady as they came at me, a little more wary of me now that they knew what I was capable of.

When they finally came again, I was again surprised by my ability to defend myself, despite my current condition.

I swung my sword about in a wide arc towards my targets. Amazingly, I connected with their three, outstretched blades one by one as they held them out to keep from getting sliced by the sudden, wild move. My maneuver had pushed them back a step, and offset the balance of the one on my far right. I came back to this one with a sword thrust that ended his life. He sagged to the ground with a groan whilst Brunor, a bit more skilled than the others, swung his sword forcefully from my left. My shield was there to defend me, for my blade still through his lackey's ribcage. When I finally removed my sword, the man I had run through slumped to one side, dead or dying; at any rate, he was out of the fight.

Two down and two more to go. I was beginning to surprise myself, seeing how I could fight so well still even after the injuries I had received during battle. It felt so surreal, as if I knew that it was my body that was being urged on to counter the attacks of these men, but I wasn't quite myself as these deeds were performed.

I pushed all pondering aside as another sword swung at me from my left peripheral, which I barely managed to duck. The blade missing me, followed through too far and almost hit the group's leader off to the side. He blocked his companion's weapon and pushed him away with an angry growl.

Brunor swung at me again, and our blades locked. The moonlight reflected in his wild eyes the intimidation he no doubt was feeling by the way I calmly went about battle, compared to the brute manner in which he and his men were fighting. Despite this fact, he still persisted, most likely thinking that my injuries would eventually give him the edge he needed. He was an idiot.

He leaned forward, his foul breath violating the space between our faces. I narrowed my eyes and, with lightning reflexes that didn't seem my own, moved to one side, causing him to fall forward, for he no longer had my sword pushing against his to hold his weight. The other man saw this and chanced an attack towards me. He came with his sword raised, which was a mistake he'll never have the problem of making again, for my own blade pierced his chest faster than he could have blinked. I pulled my bloodied weapon from the slain man and turned towards the leader and sole remaining fighter of the group, and, as he stood back up and turned to face me, I put the tip of my sword right under his chin, the blood from it smearing a little on his skin.

I had complete control. My hands didn't shake, and my face didn't change its expression. But something wasn't right.

Brunor smiled nastily.

Before I could move, the man whose arm I had broke came from behind me and grabbed at my sword arm. Instead of chastising myself for being careless (which, I calmly realized, I could do after the fight) I pushed off with my legs and kicked forward, connecting with the leader's chest and knocking the wind out him. My back slammed into the man behind me, which caused him to fall backwards. Upon impact with the ground, he exclaimed "Urk!" then gasped. A thick flow of dark red blood came out of his mouth. I knelt beside him and rolled him over to discover that he had fallen on the upturned blade of a fallen elf, the point of which had pierced one of his lungs and ended his life.

My kick had knocked Brunor to the ground again. He held his pained breastbone and gave me a cold yet scared look. "How could yeh…do that…ta'…mah' men?" he wheezed. The fight was nearly over, and my rush of adrenaline was beginning to slow. I knew this because my head was beginning to throb again. I worked hard to keep my vision from swimming, trying to focus on Brunor's homely features.

"I advised against attacking me," I reminded the unfortunate man.

The man sneered at my simple explanation. Then he seemed to consider it, looking away from my piercing glare. When his eyes returned to look at me, he asked, "Well, ain't yeh goin' ta' kill me, elf? Yeh killed mah' men with no problem. 'Ah should be no different, especially ta' one such as yerself. Ye are all the same, ye are!"

Somehow, through the intensifying pain in my head, I understood his reasoning. I had proven to him that I was a cold-blooded killer, that I was efficient and heartless in the midst of battle, slaying his men with ease. Was this perhaps what he disliked about elves? Or did his hatred run deeper than that, shared by the people with whom he communed?

However.

I was no elf.

Though I didn't tell him the truth about my race, which I was certain he wouldn't have cared to hear anyway, I instead followed with a rebuttal, and it was all I could do to keep my voice even and strong. "You speak of elves, slaying for the sake of slaying. Is that how they are? Is that how you perceive them? I know that this is how you must perceive me now." The man grunted in agreement. "But you must take into account that _you _were about to act as my judge and executioner, all the while ridiculing me. A mistake on your part, and one your men paid for with their lives."

"An' it's one ye are going to take mah' life for as well, right?"

I shook my head, which hurt a lot. "No," I managed to say, though talking was increasingly becoming difficult. I dropped my sword to the ground, my grip failing due to my growing state of weakness. My shield slumped down, and my head lolled. I took a stumbling step backwards, trying my best to keep on my feet; it took all my strength to do just that.

Brunor stood slowly, the fear gone from his face to be replaced by confusion. But when he saw that I could no longer fight him, that I was incapable of causing him anymore harm, a wicked smile grew upon his lips. "Ye had yer chance. Shame ye di'int take it." His sword raised for the killing blow; my drooping shield suddenly felt so heavy.

A shrill whistle pierced the air very close by. An arrow through the side of the man's head felled him instantly. I was beyond comprehending what had just occurred, and I surrendered my senses to the approaching darkness. I dropped to my knees, utterly exhausted of all my reserve energy, the pain in my head taking me to unconsciousness once more. Before I blacked out, I could discern three figures on horseback surrounding me where I dropped to the ground. Three...elves.

_**Author's Note: **Thanks goes to Seldavia for pointing out some long-winded paragraphs of inner monologue from Link. Those have all been shortened for better pacing of the narrative._


	2. Chapter 2: Recovery

_**Chapter 2: Recovery**_

The feeling of weightlessness became an ally in my plight. Strong hands carried me to certain refuge; I was not afraid of my destination. My exhaustion had completely overtaken me, paralyzing me, refusing to let me move a muscle. I continued to feel pain as it labored to cling to my weakened body. The good thing about the pain, however, was that it did well to remind me that I remained among the living.

A light flickered beyond my closed eyes and then was sustained. Something soft enveloped my frame as I lay upon it. I could hear voices speaking in urgency around me, but the pain that wracked my head was making it nearly impossible to focus on their exact words. I tried to open my eyes and see those near me. All I could manage was to crack my eyelids apart ever so slightly.

At first I could make out nothing, my eyesight blurred. It took a second to adjust to the light, which, judging by the steadiness of its glow, was cast by a nearby lantern. My eyes adjusted, and I could see a blank ceiling above me, the lantern casting shadows against it from the individuals that moved about it. I thought to turn my head in order to see them, but even the idea seemed a waste of what little energy I had left.

Someone's face entered my vision, a man with sharp features, long brown hair, green eyes, and ears that came to a point. I saw his mouth move to the words that he was undoubtedly speaking to me, but all sounds were as the clashing of steel on slate for me at this time. A concerned look grew on the man's face because I was unresponsive to his queries.

He set his jaw and turned to someone outside my small field of vision, beckoning the person forth. A stunningly beautiful woman with a slight nose and somewhat prominent cheekbones came into sight. Her ears were also pointed, like that of her companion's, and her hair was dark, long and pulled away from her face and tied off in the back. Her eyes were full of compassion as she regarded me, and then she pursed her lips and put her hands on her hips as if considering what she should do first.

The man next to me said something to her, and I could now make out some of the words. "...won't make it...healing magic...he...surely die." It was as if there was a great rushing water that somewhat drowned out his voice, but I was glad to be able to hear anything at this point.

She shook her head at the man. "...possible...too great... … … will try." She came around to my left side, which was where the throbbing pain in my head seemed to emanate. I could not see her anymore, but I felt her fingers as they lightly grazed the skin on the side of my face.

Another voice from an unseen individual spoke. "...know who he is? ...symbols...his shield. … … ...enemy." He sounded younger than the other two and his words seemed to emanate worry and anger. Was he telling them that I was an enemy?

I suddenly felt a surge of pain travel from my head and down the length of my body even until the very toes of my feet. I closed my eyes as I winced from the sharp knives that pricked my skin and traveled deep, cutting into the bone marrow of my limbs and deep into the organs of my torso. My head was on fire, consuming my consciousness. A bright flash of light lit up the small space of the tent, seen even through my shut eyelids.

But I couldn't move. I struggled against my invisible bonds, but to no avail; my muscles were no longer my own.

And then, just as soon as the pain had begun, it was gone. However, all was dark and without feeling. Numbness had overtaken my body, and I felt weightless for the second time that day.

* * *

_The mountain pass was a precarious one to traverse, yet there was no other option. Going it alone also meant that if I slipped and fell, there would be no way for anyone to know that I had met my doom._

_The way from Hyrule into Toriel, as I was told, used to be much simpler, but a cataclysmic event within the borders of the latter country had literally changed the face of the land insomuch that hardly anyone could travel to and from it, save it were by ship. Or else they were the type that had no qualms about traveling harsh terrain. I considered myself to be that type of person, which is why I was confident about the path I was on. _

_I held the reins of my horse in my left hand, leading her in my footsteps, for it was too dangerous to ride her during this stretch of my journey. That would have to wait until I actually passed into the country itself where I was told the land was comprised mainly of rolling fields and scattered woods. Its description reminded me of Hyrule: a plentiful land surrounded by forests and mountains..._

_My quarry was already weeks ahead of me, yet there was no giving up in my search. Besides, I knew I was getting closer. I could almost feel the beckoning call of that which was stolen, like a beacon to guide me through dark waters._

_In all my past endeavors, no matter how difficult the task at hand, I had never failed. This time would be much like the others before it. The Princess and regent of my homeland, Zelda—the entire Kingdom of Hyrule—was counting on me, and not for the first time._

* * *

I had failed. This time, things had gone differently. How could I ever go back and rectify my recent mistakes? It was gone. The Tri-...

A snapping sound could be heard from nearby, loud and distinct, like that which accompanied a lightning strike. It broke me out of my thoughts and brought me back to consciousness. I was still in the tent, albeit alone now, to which the three individuals had brought me during my darkest hour. I thought I had died, but the soft glow of the lamp beside the floor mat on which I lay was evidence that I had somehow survived the ordeal.

I sat up with ease, the pain and weariness I had felt earlier now fully and miraculously subsided. I moved aside the sheets that had been covering my half-naked torso. My bottom half was covered in smooth, grey pants that went down to my ankles. My chest was bare, and I saw that all the cuts and bruises I had sustained during my recent battle were completely erased from my wiry, muscular body. I lifted my hands and felt the sides of my head. Where the heavy throbbing had been, all I now felt was smooth skin beneath washed hair.

I continued to examine my body and came across a familiar mark on the back of my left hand. I looked at it curiously, inspecting the three golden triangles inscribed on my skin like a tattoo. The bottom-right triangle was of a brighter hue than the other two. I wondered for a moment why the symbol of my country's providence might be etched onto the back of my hand.

I vaguely remembered the last words that were spoken before falling unconscious. Whoever it was, he had referenced this very mark, but he had been looking at the one that was on my Hylian Shield. He had mentioned it in conjunction with the word "enemy". If he meant that I was his enemy, then I needed to exercise caution around these people. Of course, I thought about fleeing, but only for a split second before dismissing the idea. If I was an enemy, they would have killed me instead of healing me; unless they needed me alive for some reason. Then if I was their prisoner, why was I not bound and instead left to roam free?

I heard the loud snap again, having completely forgotten that this is what woke me in the first place. It had come from outside the tent and was accompanied by a muffled flash of orange light. I thought to investigate, and I searched the tent for anything that I might wear on my way out. Laid out on a nearby wooden table was a shirt of the same color as my leggings and a simple blue tunic next to it. I clothed myself with them, as I supposed they had been set out for me.

My equipment was also cleaned and made available to me: my boots, my belt attached to a baldric for my shield to hang off my back when not in use, and even the sword—cleaned by those who found me, for it was void of any residual blood—I had picked up when fighting Brunor and his men. Whoever brought me here had even found a suitable scabbard for my blade. It seemed, however, that my shirt of chain mail had been beyond repair to return to me, as well as my gauntlets, which I could not find among the available items.

If they had thought me an enemy, they certainly would not have left these items in my possession. These people must have had a good reason to trust a man they hadn't even had a chance to talk to.

I donned my equipment then set foot outside the tent, passing through the loose flap that served as an entrance. I was looking out into a darkened clearing surrounded by rows of tents, the ground much trampled upon by the looks of the flattened patches of dirt in it. It was all but deserted now, quiet except for the strange "snaps" I had heard a moment ago. It was dark out, but I had no clue if this was the same night in which I had been healed, or if it was actually the next day.

Alright, the passage of time was lost to me at the moment, but when two men in light armor near the camp's edge caught my attention, I pushed my temporal confusion aside. I could make out their features much better as I approached them and found that they each had swords sheathed by their sides and quivers and bows strung about their torsos. Their armor shone under the light of the moon, which allowed me to see just how intricately crafted it appeared with many curving symbols and what appeared to be runes etched into the very metal.

The taller of the two, the man I had seen earlier in the tent, turned to me and smiled warmly. "The mysterious Hylian awakens," he stated. The other man, looking younger but very similar to his companion in that they both had long brown hair and almost identical facial features, turned to see me as well. His look was not that of welcome but rather concern. Still, he managed a smile as well.

"It's good to see that you've recovered from your injuries," he said, placing gold-gauntleted hands upon his hips. His was the young voice I had heard last. "I don't think any normal person could have survived what you went through. By the way, you're welcome."

I stared at him dumbfounded. I found my voice for the first time since waking and said, "I'm aware of the thanks that I owe you, but to what specifically is it that you're referring?"

He lightly grasped the wooden frame of his bow with one hand and smirked at me. "For taking out that human who was going to skewer you where you stood. That shot was taken over thirty yards away from horseback. Pretty impressive, right?"

I hesitantly approached the two. From what I could tell, they were elves, and I inferred that they were the same that had approached me right after saving me from certain death at the hand of Brunor. "Indeed, that's very impressive. It would seem I am in your debt. To both of you."

"Think nothing of it," said the first. "Hylians and elves are traditionally allies; you would have done the same for us."

"Though," added the other, "our people haven't seen a Hylian quite like you in Toriel for over fifty years, so my brother has been telling me." He gestured to other elf.

The taller one extended his hand when I came within arm's reach, and I clasped it in greeting. "My name is Dallo, and this is my younger brother Rallo." The younger brother shook hands with me in turn. "We are two of the few remaining members of the Elven Legion."

"As for the rest of the Elven Legion..." started Rallo.

"...entirely decimated, as you are no doubt aware," Dallo finished, his gaze hardened as he related this unfortunate fact to me.

I nodded somberly at their revelation. The battlefield upon which I had awoken had been strewn with like-armored individuals, all with the same pointed ears: the Elven Legion. I couldn't imagine what it must have felt like to lose all of one's brothers in arms in the space of a day.

"Link," I offered in return. "Knight in service to the Royal Family of Hyrule. I must confess that I am grieved at your losses."

"We are well met, and we thank you for your condolences," said Dallo while Rallo stood aside with a frown on his face. "I am certain you have many questions that you would like to ask us." I nodded at this. "We have questions for you as well, but they will all have to wait for a moment while we finalize this magical barrier."

I looked at him quizzically. Rallo noticed this and said, "The humans of Toriel have grown very powerful and numerous over the years, so we elves must always remain cautious and vigilant when without the walls of our city. We are in the camp where the Elven Legion staged their battle against the Human Commander only yesterday, and since all..." his voice wavered, and he looked to the ground for a moment.

Dallo continued. "They were our nation's finest warriors, the Elven Legion. It is very hard to believe that they were defeated, but it's proof that the humans have grown incredibly powerful in their endeavors." Dallo walked while Rallo and I followed him. We traveled a few meters, after which the taller elf knelt to the ground and placed his hands upon it, taking a moment to concentrate.

"The humans might still think this camp is empty," explained Rallo, finding his voice once more. "But we can't take any chances, so we have to do our best to hide ourselves while we stay here for the night." An orange glow leapt from Dallo's open palms and to the spot on the ground, which elicited a loud snapping sound, while lighting up the vicinity with the release of magical energy. I heard horses whinny from somewhere nearby, startled by the sound.

"That should be the final point," said the elder brother as he returned to standing. "If any humans come to this camp, then the barrier should keep us hidden from the naked eye. If anyone other than those within crosses its threshold, I will immediately know of it."

The brothers began to walk back towards the center of the camp, and Rallo motioned for me to follow them. I did so, noticing that there was one other tent close to the one towards which we were headed that had lights on within.

"That's where Lenoa is resting," Rallo answered before I could ask. "You owe her a great deal of thanks; she's the one that kept you among the living." Again, before I could ask how that was done, Rallo preempted me. "She did so with a gift few elves ever come by; the healing touch. It drains their own spirit to use—and in your case a lot—she actually had to draw from us brothers a little in order to save you completely, but, in the end, she's the one that was affected the most."

"There is not even a scar left on my body," I mentioned to him.

"That's because our healing magic restores that which was lost instead of simply covering the wound with scar tissue. In fact, if you were to lose a hand in battle, our healers would be able to restore it with ease, even if you could not find the lost limb for reattachment. The magic would stimulate your body to grow a new one. Also, any scars you had previous to today should also be gone."

I was astonished by this information. "Incredible," was all I could think to remark.

"Just remember that we don't advertise these special magical talents to surrounding nations. If everyone knew what we could do, then we would have a lot more to deal with than just the Toriellan humans."

"I will certainly keep this in mind."

We followed Dallo into a large tent near Lenoa's. It was spacious but dark within this one, but a lamp was soon lit near the door that illuminated the interior to reveal that it was some sort of command tent where the leaders of the Elven Legion no doubt had met to discuss tactics. There was a decently large circular wooden table in the tent's center with a drawn layout of what I supposed was the local area laid across its face. Hanging from the ceiling directly over the chart was another lamp, but Dallo left this one alone, which shrouded the back half of the tent in a few shadows where the first light didn't quite reach.

Along the edge of the interior were crates full of supplies and racks with unused weapons upon them. There were also some wooden chairs, which the brothers pulled out, and we three sat, facing each other.

"I will speak first," began Dallo, taking a commanding tone. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, and the elf crossed one leg over the other comfortably. "There should be nothing to worry about from us; elves and Hylians have never been at odds with one another, and, so I have heard, we even share a common ancestry.

"But the history of our two peoples can be told at a different time," he continued. "Right now we are desperate to know what occurred here on the Ichron plains."

I took a deep breath and let it out. I thought back on the events of the previous day, trying to recall the details as they played out.

And could not recall any of it. I had opened my mouth to speak but was forced to close it, for all I had thought to tell them of yesterday's events simply eluded my mind.

"Take your time, won't you?" Rallo had spoken, his tone sardonic.

"Give him a moment," Dallo upbraided his brother. He turned back to me. "Perhaps you could tell us about the battle."

"I...I am very sorry," I told them. That which I was searching for, the explanation I owed these brothers...instead there was a great void, an impassable chasm, the other side of which was beyond my sight. "I feel as if there's something I should be telling you, but I cannot remember a thing."

Dallo frowned, and Rallo clenched his hands into fists, furrowing his brow at me. "Or perhaps you are hiding something."

Rallo's accusatory tone caused heat to flow to my face. "Believe me, it is as I say to you. At this point I believe I can tell you just as much about the battle as you yourselves can."

"Oh, there's certainly more," he persisted, standing in frustration. He paced the other end of the enclosed space while he spoke, gesturing with his gauntleted hands. "To first understand where I'm coming from, to fully grasp my concern, I must tell you our purpose for even being here. Were it not for our journey here, we would not have found you. You...another piece in this little puzzle in the humans' plans."

I made to rise but Dallo motioned for me to be seated, a calm expression remaining on his strong features. I asked defensively, "What are you insinuating?"

"The mark on your hand," stated Rallo, and I took a quick glance at it. "The moment I saw the crest on your shield, we knew you were a Hylian, and the fact that you were fighting off Toriellan humans when we stumbled upon you boded well for all. Still...it seemed strange that a Hylian would appear at _this _particular time, and I will tell you in a moment why that is."

Dallo's deep voice sounded again, and I shifted attention to him once more. "When we removed your equipment, specifically the gauntlets on your hands, we saw the mark on your hand. That is when our true concern began."

Rallo spoke again. "We were on a mission from the glorious city of Sha'An—that's the elven capitol—to warn General Creshon, Commander of the Elven Legion, of a potential threat to his forces that would rise from one bearing such a mark." My eyes widened at his words, but he ignored my surprise. "We rode as fast as our steeds would carry us across the land, but we arrived too late, as you are certainly aware."

"The mark on _my_ hand? It...it appears to be just a tattoo," I told him, flustered. "Nothing more." I didn't remember always having it nor when I had received it. That same precipice that preceded the great void that was now my memory met me once more; perhaps my amnesia extended somewhat into my past as well.

"Nothing more?" he challenged. He chuckled a little at my words and pointed accusingly in my direction. "Now I know that you're withholding the facts from us."

I felt my jaw drop slightly, and even Dallo seemed to grow wary of my words. "If you have truly lost your memory, then why conveniently forget about something as important as this mark on your hand, especially considering the fact that you still recall who you are and even that you are a knight?"

"I...I can't explain it," I protested. "A memory of my journey to this land came to me while Lenoa was healing me, and in it I recalled my origins, but nothing else beyond that." I slowed my racing mind, trying to remember anything. "Yes...I came here looking for someone." I looked to my left hand as if pleading to the mark upon it for guidance. I immediately felt silly for doing so, but thinking upon it led to another realization that surprised me.

"And I found him...but that which he had, I did not recover."

Dallo leaned forward in his chair. "Who were you looking for?" He pointed to the back of my hand. "Did it have to do with this?"

I slowly nodded, knowing this was the correct answer. Rallo sat back down in his seat. "I see...so that's why a Hylian has come here."

"It would appear so," affirmed his brother.

"Then you really have lost your memories," Rallo wondered aloud. "I apologize for getting so worked up. It's just that...that..."

As Rallo broke off, Dallo continued his train of thought. "It's that we received word from a reliable source within the borders of our land that the human commander was going to use a weapon he had gained during his sojourn in Hyrule; he was going to use it against the Elven Legion that had left only days ago to march against the humans. The description we were given was that it resembled this mark," he gestured to it again, "and it was on the back of one of his hands, just like your own."

I looked to Rallo, relief flooding through me as I realized that the mark he was referring to had not necessarily been my own. They were riding out to warn the Elven Legion of a figure with this mark, and that figure was not me after all. "I see." However... "You thought that because I was in yesterday's battle and because I bore the mark of your enemy that I was a potential threat...just as this human commander was."

"But this memory you have related to us," said Dallo, "if I'm to understand it correctly, it means that you, too, were to have fought against the human commander, thus making you our ally. The weapon, the mark—that _is_ what you were coming for to Toriel."

"It would seem so, but I don't believe I fully understand—or, in this case, remember—what exactly it is that this mark can do...or even what it's called."

Rallo scoffed. "Remembrance is one thing, but you don't understand? Just take a look at what remains of the Elven Legion on these plains. How much clearer do its implications as a weapon need to be?"

I shook my head. "Then if I possess such a 'weapon', as you call it, how is it that I came to be at the mercy of the human commander? How did I not fare better on the battlefield? Instead, you find me struggling for my life, on the brink of death, and about to be killed by one of your enemies."

"We do not have all the answers," Dallo admitted, sadly. "All we knew is that we needed to recall the Elven Legion before something dreadful happened to them. The plan was to keep them from battle long enough to learn exactly what the humans had in their possession so that we could counter it when we finally did meet them on the battlefield."

"I must tell you what Lenoa said while she healed you," said Rallo, speaking after a break in Dallo's words. "She said that you should have already been dead."

"I felt like I should have been dead," I said in agreement, which elicited small smiles from the brothers.

"But you were still alive, even with the wounds you had sustained. It was unimaginable at first how you were even still conscious, but when we saw the mark on your hand after removing your gauntlets—which, I must regretfully tell you, those gauntlets are beyond repair—and by the faint glow that it was giving off...she believed it was the source of your sustained life, and it even eased the process of healing you."

"Perhaps the powers of these marks work differently from one another?" suggested Dallo. "The one employed by the humans did nothing to sustain life as yours has done for you."

"In all honesty, you have told me more than I could have told you concerning these marks," I said to the brothers.

"Your memories," sighed Rallo in resignation. "Right."

"I have something for you," Dallo told me after a moment's thought. He stood and rummaged through a crate in a dark corner of the tent. He stopped when he found what he was looking for and returned to his chair with a glass flask fitted with a cork stopper. He pulled out a small dagger from his belt and used its tip to open the flask, after which he handed it to me. "Drink that," he commanded. "It's not as good nor filling as a full meal, but it will give you the sustenance you need to go on, especially since you haven't eaten nor drank anything for some time."

A sudden pang in my stomach reminded me of this fact, and I gulped the concoction down quickly. It was thick, syrupy, and sweet like honey. Its effect was instantaneous, my hunger abating in seconds.

"This...this is amazing!" I exclaimed, revitalized. "What is this?" I handed the empty flask back to Dallo.

"Just a food ration made from concentrated jorberries," he replied with a slight shrug. "We usually enjoy much finer cuisine in our society, and I apologize that I cannot treat you to a better meal than this at the moment."

"Do not let it trouble you." I stood from my chair and stretched, raising my arms far above my head till my knuckles grazed the tent ceiling. I then tilted my stiff neck from side to side. "I assure you that it was just what I needed after this ordeal."

The brothers stood as well, seemingly more at ease now that any uncertainties they had about me had been smoothed over. "After all this, we know that you have been sent from Hyrule to try and regain that which can possibly destroy all the elves. The humans bear a mark, and so do you—that is perhaps why you are the one that was sent here. I do not wish to question the tactics of your homeland, but it seems strange that they wouldn't send an entire army to recover a power of this magnitude."

"You can trust that I would give you the answer if I knew it," I told him sincerely. "Or, as the case may be, if I _remembered_ it."

"And perhaps it will come to you in time. As for your own questions, are there any that you would like to ask us now?" Dallo spread his hands and raised his brow expectantly at me, and Rallo, his worries about me eased, looked exhausted now and even yawned.

I rolled my shoulders, finishing my stretch. That concoction of jorberries, whatever those were, really hit the spot. I noted Rallo's tired appearance and said, "It seems the night has been a long one for you, and I do not wish to exhaust you longer than is needed with words that can be spoken at a later time." Rallo gave me a look that seemed to say, "Thank you."

Dallo nodded with a smile and clasped his hands together. "I understand, and we thank you for your concern. Truly, however, if there is anything at all that you need, then..." His words trailed off suddenly, his green eyes sharpening. Rallo's tired eyes sprung wide open upon seeing the shift in his brother's demeanor.

"Is it...?" the younger elf asked.

Dallo raised an index finger to his lips, signaling for the both of us to remain quiet. He drew his sword, a long, double-edged blade of bright steel that glistened in the lamp's low light. Dallo walked slowly out of the tent, sword to the front. On his way out of the entrance, he covered the wick of the lantern, extinguishing its light. Rallo followed his brother, removing his bow and stringing an arrow in preparation.

I hadn't heard a thing, but the tall elf seemed very alarmed by something. Perhaps something or someone had breached the barrier that he had erected. I remained in the tent for a moment, not wanting to interrupt the brothers' investigation. There were a number of things that could have breached the magical barrier, such as small mammals, a bird in flight, or...

A sudden scuffling sound from outside caused me to perk up and gather my wits about me. I could hear individuals yelling, and it was soon followed with the familiar noise of metal against metal—swords clashing. As I approached the large tent's entrance, the sounds outside intensified and drew closer.

I heard in alarming succession a whistle, a shriek and then a thud.

I nearly jumped when the "thud" accompanied something suddenly falling through the opening of the tent: a human body, an arrow protruding from one of his eyes. His face was stuck in a look of surprise. He was clad in a soldier's garb that I swore I had seen before: a suit of mail with leather boots and gloves, an iron head guard, and a tabard of pure black.

The uniform of this slain man roused a recent memory from its slumber in the back of my mind. I recalled snippets of a battle on this very field, elves against humans—humans wearing these black tabards.

_The Dark Axe Brigade._

**_Author's Note: _**_Whew! This story is going under revision after revision after revision...but with the beta work of Wavebreeze this version ought to stick. If not for her careful scrutinizing of every little sentence here, I would've made some silly mistakes, as well as some big ones. Many thanks go to her._


	3. Chapter 3: Ambush in the Night

_**Chapter 3: Ambush in the Night**_

I drew my recently scavenged weapon from its scabbard—the scabbard that the brothers had provided me during my recovery—and mentally prepared myself for what awaited me outside the tent. Members of the Dark Axe Brigade had definitely breached the invisible, magic barrier. The magic effects of the wall must have been compromised; the humans weren't supposed to see the elves, but the fact there was now a skirmish proved that somehow they had bypassed Dallo's security.

I carefully stepped over the slain man lying in the tent's entrance. What I saw beyond the opening made my heart sink. It appeared that literally dozens if not hundreds of torches lined the ranks of soldiers in the distance. I couldn't fathom how they had set upon us so fast nor how they had breached the magic barrier—I had thought its magical properties had been specifically engineered to prevent an event such as this.

My attention turned to the sound of swords clashing nearby, and I looked to see that Dallo was engaged with five men at once, concentration set hard upon his face. I was about to rush to his aid when three consecutive arrows found their ways into the backs of three of the soldiers. It was then that I saw Rallo sitting in a tree nearby, already nocking another arrow to his bow and aiming it at the next group of approaching individuals. I marveled at the ingenuity of the young elf, scaling the small tree and, from his perch, taking out the soldiers one by one as they approached.

I turned my gaze back to Dallo and watched in awe as he skillfully dispatched the two remaining foes, his sword a blur in the moonlight. His blade removed the right arm of the first man and actually decapitated the second. He wasted no time following that to run off to another group of soldiers while Rallo provided cover fire from the tree.

I searched the grounds of the camp for anything I might have missed, which is when I caught sight of a group of six men making their way for Lenoa's tent, spears at the ready. Without a second's thought for my own safety, I sprang into action.

They didn't seem to notice that I had come out of the darkened command tent, this fact affording me the element of surprise. I barreled through the lot of them, sword swinging, just before they could reach the tent's opening. The surprised looks on their faces from my sudden appearance were well-earned.

I knocked two of them down with my momentum, charging the first and he, in turn, falling upon the second. I whirled around at the other four, who were just not getting wind of what was happening to them. All of this had happened so quickly, that they still had looks of surprise on their faces—these soon turned to looks of anger. I had the sudden urge to chide myself for rushing into this mess, but, before my thoughts could process the proper mental scolding, the soldiers came at me.

I prepared to engage the closest one, when he suddenly shrieked in pain, clutching at this throat and staggering to the ground. An arrowhead had inexplicably sprouted from his Adam's apple. Another man to his right fell as well, grunting from the sudden pain afforded him by an arrow in his back. Up in Rallo's tree, the elf threw me a quick salute, and was afterward forced to turn his attention elsewhere as more men approached the camp from another direction.

I took the moment of confusion that Rallo had afforded me with his arrows to strike at the men still before me. The two on the ground were helping each other up, which I disapproved of. They were promptly forced back down as I leapt atop the both of them.

"Get 'im off 'a mah!" one of them shouted from beneath me, a little strained due to the weight of my right foot on his back. I dug my heels in harder, keeping them grounded and silent.

One of the two soldiers that was still standing gathered his wits about him and quickly jabbed at me with his spear. I didn't even have to think; I reacted on instinct. My shield was brought to the fore, and the pointed end of his weapon glanced uselessly off its curved surface, sliding past my right side. I immediately saw the opening in his defenses and I leaped from atop the prone soldiers and planted a speeding boot firmly in the man's face, which caused him to drop his spear and spin about with the momentum of my kick.

The other standing man thought to skewer me from the left side as I flew through the air, but my sword deflected his blow with ease. The man I had kicked in the face fell to the ground heavily, and his companion was getting ready to jab at me again. I ducked one jab, then sidestepped another. When he tried again, I hopped to one side, avoiding the point, then moved back in quickly, closer to the man than I had previously been. His spear would not work so well at such a close range to me. He only got one good, scared glance at the fighter's gleam in my eyes before my sword's hilt connected hard with his sternum, accompanied by a resounding crack. He fell in a heap at my feet, dropping his weapon and clutching his middle.

The others were beginning to rise again, and I saw them reach for their sheathed swords, knowing their spears would not do any good at such a close range to me.

Swordplay...this was a dance I knew only too well. My blade would be made to sing the song of death for those foolish enough to face me.

I took a moment to blink my eyes in wonder. Did I think like this every time I fought against someone or something? What kind of Knight was I?

My thoughts were interrupted the moment the soldiers rushed me, and I stepped forward to meet them with an almost-smile, realizing that this was the sort of thing that defined who I was...details of my past aside, I simply knew I was a fighter.

Eventually, the man that had been kicked in the face, bloody nosed and angry, joined the fight with his own blade. None of the men attacking me wore shields or bucklers of any kind, leaving them open to well-placed thrusts from my sword if they did not parry in time. My shield was a blur of motion along with my blade. Though my weapon's weight was a bit off from what I was used to, I still handled it just fine, and I was simply glad to have any old sword with me at the moment.

I was also glad to have my energy back. My injuries were healed, allowing me to move with efficiency and skill as I fought, much different from the frantic fight for my life against Brunor and his men not too long ago. I felt unstoppable as I slew two of the three attacking me, gritting my teeth at the sounds of their deaths, but enjoying the fight at the same time. I knew this was what I had been bred for, my knighthood having been granted me for good reason.

There now remained just one man, and though fearful from the death of his comrades, he wasn't giving up. I recognized him from his nose's blood smeared on his face as the man I had jump-kicked.

"A bit tenacious, aren't we?" I jested with a smirk.

He replied by attacking me, growling. He slashed at my ribcage with his longsword, but I knocked his arm hard with the edge of my shield before he could touch me, causing him to drop his weapon with a cry of pain. He backed off quickly then defiantly pulled out knives into both hands, but the look on his face was one of desperation, for there wasn't anything about my calculated, killing efficiency that could inspire confidence in him. He threw both blades simultaneously in my direction, but I easily dodged one while I shielded myself from the other. The man then took off at a run, done trying to best me one-on-one, but he only made it a few feet before another of Rallo's arrows found its place right between his shoulder blades. He shrieked, fell to the ground and then was still.

I had no idea how this could be the same Dark Axe Brigade that had fought the Elven Legion only a day before. All the elves had met such horrible fates, and, yet, the three of us were felling these men as if they were simple pawns in a game of chess: front line fodder. Where was the power that had decimated an entire army only a couple dozen hours before?

I looked back and saw that Lenoa had appeared at the entrance to her tent, eyes wide in shock at the unexpected skirmish. Her hair was still tied back as I had seen it earlier, revealing the entirety of her lovely features, which were pale but pleasant in the light of the moon. She was also wearing armor much like what the brothers had, but it was not as pronounced on her frame as their own. Strapped around her torso was a quiver of arrows and a bow, and on her belt was sheathed a short, curving blade.

"Impossible!" she exclaimed with a husky voice. "How did the humans breach Dallo's barrier?" One of the men I had fought caught her eye as he crawled away, this being the one whose sternum I had cracked. She gave the man a contemptuous look before stringing an arrow to her bow and ending his life with it. It somehow struck me as odd that one who had gone to great lengths to pull a person from the brink of death—me—could turn around and snuff out another's life just as easily.

I shuddered briefly at the thought, then said to her, "I'm at as much a loss as yourself right now; either the barrier did not work as advertised, or the Dark Axe Brigade has compromised it."

"The Dark Axe Brigade?" she queried, as if hearing the name for the first time. I managed to only blink at her, unsure how to explain to her that I didn't quite know myself how I knew that this was what the humans attacking us called themselves. When I didn't verify, she huffed, "Don't waste my time with useless information."

_Well, excuse me, _I thought bitterly to myself at her sudden scolding. _The name didn't just come to me from nowhere_. Ah, who was I playing for the fool? Of course, the name _had_ essentially come from nowhere; how reliable was my memory at this time, truly? No, Lenoa just didn't know they were called that...odd that I did though.

Done with silently second guessing myself, I was again appraised of the skirmish when Lenoa was alerted to Dallo's situation. Though the tall elf had taken a few, serious hits, he was still going, now fending off three men that were armed with spears and short-swords. Above the clash of his sword against their own weapons, he yelled back at her, "Lenoa! Take the Hylian and flee!"

Lenoa looked at me again, standing in the moonlight, my blade soaked with the blood of the human soldiers I had slain. _Evaluating my usefulness after giving her so-called "useless information",_ I thought bitingly, realizing now how patronizingly judgmental she could seem with just her looks alone, beautiful as she may be. I had slain men with relative ease, and their blood on the blade of my sword was testimony to this fact; of course I was useful!

"Stay here and help however you can," she commanded me at last. "I have to prep the horses; we are_ all_ getting out of here!" She yelled this last part pointedly to her wounded elf companion, though he was too busy running his large sword through a soldier to acknowledge her words.

As for myself, I could only nod as I watched her take off around the back of the command tent where the horses were apparently being kept. I had to break my gaze away from her retreating form. Her gracefulness and beauty tempted to captivate me for the moment, but our lives were at stake and our survival was more pressing than my striking fancies with this decidedly authoritative woman.

Rallo was still occupied with shooting as many approaching humans as possible, though I noticed the torch light surrounding the camp was coming closer, which meant no amount of arrows would hold them back forever. A feeling of urgency swept through me; I knew that we would soon be overrun by more men than we three could handle. Again, I thought back on the battle from before; it had been this Dark Axe Brigade that had brought an end to the Elven Legion earlier, and if an entire army could not stand against these men then what chance did _we_ have? I, for one, didn't want to wait around long enough for the human commander, wherever he may be in all this, to utilize the same power he had won with earlier.

I ran to Dallo's aid, for two of the humans he fought were still standing and were proving difficult for him to best. One caught his back with a vicious slash that elicited a cry of pain from the elf. I arrived just in time to engage this same human, coming down on his wrist with my blade to disarm him, and then slamming the edge of my shield into his face, dropping him with bloodied face instantly to the ground.

Dallo rounded on the remaining human, howling with fury and shot what a appeared to be a glowing missile of energy from the empty palm of his left hand. My eyes grew wide at the sight; the human flew back from the blast, landing ten feet away from our location. The large, burn mark on his chest meant he was not about to get back up.

Done with trying to process what I just saw, I turned back to Dallo. "Are you okay?" I asked the injured elf.

He looked to me with a feral glow in his eyes but did not respond. Another group of humans, maybe ten in all, were advancing from our left side, while another large group appeared to our front. Dallo cried out menacingly at them, raising his sword into the air in challenge to those that neared us.

"We need to fall back," I urged him, taking a step to my rear, towards the direction Lenoa had taken, hoping he would follow. He would not. I then looked to Rallo not too far away. To my shock he was scrambling to get out of his tree, regardless of the number of foes that had suddenly gathered below him. A second later I saw the reason: the ranks of men in the distance had sent forth some archers who were lighting the tips of their arrows with flames from the torches held by their comrades and were about to fire at Rallo's tree.

There wasn't a thing Dallo nor I could do to save his brother from what happened next. Around fifty flaming projectiles lit up the night sky as they soared through the air, and I felt as if time were slowing down as I watched the fearful Rallo jump from the tree into the arms of waiting enemies. Dallo's expression (if it were possible) grew even more wrathful, and as the groups approached, I continued to back away while the enraged elf, to my utter disbelief, engaged them all. A magical aura seemed to form around his frame, and his attacks became more powerful, more desperate. His enemies were falling two by two, sometimes three at a time. He rushed blindly through the throng of them, wildly smashing into the crowd with an incredible magical force that rattled my bones with each blow. Soon he was lost to sight amongst all the humans crowding beneath the tree, the same that had taken his brother.

I looked helplessly on at what inevitably happened next, dozens of swords rushing to meet the tall elf.

I was left alone for the moment, which gave me a little time to survey the ranks of those assaulting us. Near the group of archers was a man clad in a full, black suit of armor, and he bore a large, fierce-looking battle-axe. This man was much larger than I by a couple feet, and as I stared at him the horned helmet covering the entirety of his head seemed to turn its attention on me, piercing me with a veiled gaze.

Nearest to him were robed individuals, and upon their heads were what appeared to be some kind of glass eye protection, whatever purpose they truly served I could not divine. They noticed me as well, pointing me out to their leader, but he had already noticed my presence by then.

Within the jumble that was my mind, a thought stood out like a strike of lightning—I knew this individual. My blood began to boil upon seeing him, and I found myself stalking towards the man, slowly and determinedly. Memories came to me in staggered waves, each reminding me of my past and that he played an important part in it. A part that I was not overly fond of.

The individual was the Toriellan human commander himself surrounded by his Dark Axe Brigade, though I could not recall who exactly the men in robes were. At any rate, he was the one that had what I was searching for. My left hand began to tingle almost expectantly, the mark upon it beginning to glow due to my proximity to this individual. I felt drawn to him because of this; I knew that which he had was like a beacon to my own mysterious mark...like they belonged together.

We stared at each other across the open space of the camp, his soldiers standing by to await his orders, the men in robes looking baffled but enraged at my presence. The large man began to walk towards me, slowly, and even cautiously, I would say. He removed the enormous axe from its resting place on his back and brandished it, the flames of his allies' torches reflected on it and caused the whetted metal to flicker forth like the dark fires of hell.

And then Lenoa's voice suddenly cut the tension of the air like a razor, and I was forced to turn hesitantly from my quarry.

"Quick, this way!" she called out to me. I turned my gaze back to the Dark Axe Brigade and their leader, taking one unsure step back. "Hurry!" she urged.

It was too late to decide anything else; I turned and ran to Lenoa. The large, dark-armored man signaled to his soldiers, and they, in turn, gave chase.

My legs carried me quickly to the small corral of horses where Lenoa waited upon one of them. "We must hurry if we are to escape! Here!" She handed me a bow and a leather quiver of arrows. "Use these to keep them at bay as we ride." I took the new weapon and its ammo and strapped them around me, cinching down the leather strap of the quiver so that it would not move from my backside. I sheathed my blade, thinking to clean it later when I got the chance, and held on to the bow instead.

Lenoa then gestured to the horses. Among them was a brown mare with a white mane that trotted right up to me.

"This...this is my horse!" I exclaimed. "Epona!" I cried out as I patted her side, remembering her from the flashback of my dream. I was relieved to be reunited with something else from my past.

"Quickly then!" shouted Lenoa, near exasperation. "Mount your steed!" I easily put one foot in the stirrup and swung myself over to rest on the saddle. "Where are my companions?" she asked once we were ready to leave.

An arrow whizzed past my ear, my heart raced faster. "The enemy overtook them; there's nothing more we can do than flee," I quickly explained.

The expression on her face was a hard one. "If it's as you say, then we have no choice." More arrows flew past us, and the shouts of the men that had chased me from the commander's side were getting close.

"Time to move!" I shouted. "Hyah!" I planted my feet firmly against Epona's flanks, promptly causing her to take off at a swift gallop out of the open gate of the corral. Lenoa trailed close behind. We soon cleared the tents of the elf camp and were riding out into the open field of the Ichron plains. She pulled up to my side, and I shouted to her, "I am truly sorry for your companions!" She was silent, eyes staying to the front. I decided I would talk to her more later once we had outrun the humans—no—_if_ we outran them

We rode away swiftly from the human soldiers, and I turned to get one last look at the large, dark silhouette of a man standing amongst the forty or so men that remained under his watch at the very edge of the camp. I could feel him looking at me as well, his eyes unseen, and I knew he had to be surprised to see me...alive. A memory of him surfaced in my mind. He was the last person that I had fought before...

More arrows took flight and sailed past us, the shooters swiftly bearing down on the two of us atop their own horses. I nocked an arrow to my bow and aimed it behind me, all the while staying steady on my horse. I briefly saw beside me that Lenoa had a smile on her pretty face, apparently satisfied that I could not only use a sword but that I knew my way around a bow too.

I glanced over my left shoulder, catching a glimpse of a man on horseback shooting an arrow towards me. It clipped my horse's brown hide but left nothing more than a slight scratch. I was glad that my steed didn't rear up at the sudden stinging pain; Epona was no ordinary horse.

I pulled back my own arrow, aimed, and released. The same man flew from his mount forcefully and with a shriek of pain. I saw another arrow fly and strike a second rider in the shoulder, this one almost getting off a shot with his crossbow at us. Lenoa was already readying another arrow by the time that one had hit its mark. I grinned appreciatively at her marksmanship; her skill with the bow reminded me of another beautiful woman that I knew...

"Look out!" yelled Lenoa. I barely had enough time to pull my horse to one side as a man came up beside me, swinging a long blade, and I barely dodged its sharp edge. There was also no time to nock another arrow to shoot this man, as I was being forced instead to avoid his sword, ducking it as he swung it my way. In retaliation, I actually swung my bow quickly and forcefully into the man's head, knocking him from his steed and causing him to be trodden on by the one following directly behind him. That one steadied his crossbow and shot a small bolt that, luckily, bounced off the hard leather of my horse's saddle. While he attempted to reload his weapon, I fitted a new arrow and shot him in the arm, making him falter and fall behind.

There were still many more men pursuing, and my arrow supply was limited. Noticing the dark treeline of a forest not too far ahead of us, I yelled out at Lenoa as she fitted a new arrow to her bow. I pointed towards the approaching trees with my free hand. "We can lose them in there!" I yelled to her. She nodded knowingly as she took out another pursuer with a well-placed arrow to his chest.

"That was my plan all along," she replied coolly, already fitting a new arrow to her bow.

We stayed well ahead of the pursuing party and strove towards the forest as fast as our horses would carry us. I heard Lenoa let out a short yell of anger when an arrow pierced her horse's tender left thigh. The wounded animal reared up and flung her off backwards just before we had reached the forest's edge.

"Hylian!" she yelled. I pulled back on Epona's reins, grinding her to a halt.

"Damn!" I cursed. "Hang on, Lenoa!" My words didn't sound too hopeful even to me. The riders quickly approached; there would be little time to act, if any.

**_Author's Note: _**_Mwahaha! Cliffhanger! And I know you readers love these._

_Quick thanks to Wavebreeze for the good notes I got from her for this particular chapter. Also, Davin, I'm glad you like this story so much. I'll try to make it as epic as I can just because you're expecting it so badly. ;)_


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